‘Right … right … yes, it's a risk but give her a double dose. And if it doesn't work, ring me right back. Now, Joe, get me the Sister on the line … yes, I am angry and I don't care if I should be taking things easy. Get me the Sister on the line!’
There was a pause. Tania looked at his hunched body, the blackness of his expression and decided not to interfere. This wasn't her business – besides, he frightened her.
His voice was quiet at first – the lull before the storm. ‘Ah, Sister Elland, Dr. Knight here. Now, I gather one of my patients, Mrs Cullen, has been given 100 mg tablets instead of 10 mg tablets. Quite a difference, I'm sure you'll agree. Would you like to explain it? … No, that will not do as an excuse. The new nurse didn't do something wrong, the new nurse shouldn't have been allowed near the patient unsupervised. She's there to learn, not to cover for you while you sit in your office and read magazines. Now this is the last time this will happen. Once more, and you're out of my ward, out of the hospital and you won't be a nurse any more, much less a Sister. Do I make myself clear?’
And suddenly his voice was back to normal. ‘Good, I'm glad you understand that.’ He clicked off the mobile and there was silence in the room.
‘Partly I'm angry because I've lost my sight,’ he said eventually. ‘I wouldn't have shouted before. But that woman deserved everything I said. I don't like it when things go wrong.’
‘Nobody does. But you're going to have to control your temper. If you act suddenly, impulsively, when you're blind you can be a danger both to yourself and other people.’
‘That's going to be hard!’
She had to say it ‘There's nothing more comic than a blind person losing his temper. He looks ridiculous.’
For a moment she thought she had gone too far. But when Jonathan spoke it was another half-understood cry for help. ‘Do all blind people feel as helpless and as impotent as I do?’
‘Many do at first’ she said quietly, ‘but they tend to come to an accommodation in time.’
Tania could sense his frustration.
‘An accommodation? In time? Excuse me a minute,’ he said, and pulled off the T-shirt he was wearing‑ today a dark blue one. She looked at him with apprehension. Now what? Something, a reaction to frustration she had never come across before. He crouched, stretched full length on the polished floor, his hands underneath him. Then he pushed downwards slowly, raising his body. Press ups. She had seen the PE teacher in the school doing them with the bigger, stronger boys. But never like this.
At first he moved slowly, so that she could see the muscles in his arms and shoulders quiver with the strain. Then he moved quickly, his chest appearing to bounce off the floor. She lost count when he passed thirty repetitions. Now she could hear the rasping in his throat as he dragged in great sobbing breaths, and watched as sweat gathered as a sheen on his back and dripped from his hair. Eventually he had to slow down, and she could see the agony in his face as he forced the tortured muscles to do just one, two, three more repetitions.
And finally he was done. With a groan he collapsed on the floor. ‘You'd better go for a shower,’ she said.
He was calmer after his shower. He’d changed into fresh chinos and shirt and suggested they go back to work in the kitchen. Tania was amazed! She had never had a client like this before. But he wanted to do more.
‘Boiled eggs are fine to start with,’ he said, ‘but how about grilling bacon?’
‘Difficult,’ Tania said, ‘much more difficult.’
They were trying to cope with the grill when the intercom rang. ‘I'll take care of things here if you want to answer it,’ Tania said. ‘If there's anything I can do, call me.’
He was back a few moments later. She couldn't read the expression on his face. Previously he had been engrossed in learning, now he seemed half amused, half irritated. ‘I have a visitor,’ he said, ‘my senior registrar, Eleanor Page. She's called to see if I'm all right.’
‘Well, I'd better go, then,’ said Tania. She could have done without this interruption – the work had been going well.
‘You'll do no such thing. I have to learn and your time is valuable. I'll just let her in.’
Eleanor was in her early thirties ‑ a glacial blonde with expensive clothes, expensive make-up, and expensive jewellery. Tania thought her perfume was a bit excessive. Jonathan was blind. His other senses were in perfect order. Then she wondered why she disliked the woman so quickly. On the other hand, any dislike seemed to be mutual. Tania caught the quick assessing glance, the momentarily pursed lips as Eleanor sized her up. She sees me as a rival, Tania thought, and felt a little more cheerful.
After introducing the two, Jonathan explained that this was his tuition time. Eleanor would have to sit quietly and not interrupt while Tania taught him.
‘Fine by me,’ Eleanor said, obviously wishing to appear agreeable. ‘I'll just sit here quietly and watch.’ And for a while she did.
After twenty minutes Tania was feeling a bit embarrassed. She suggested that Jonathan make them all a cafetiere of coffee and they sat down together.
‘Certainly,’ Jonathan said, ‘but we only break for ten minutes.’
‘If there's anything you want to discuss about work,’ Tania went on desperately, ‘anything confidential, then I could sit here in the kitchen while you –’
‘Well, that would be kind –’ Eleanor started.
At exactly the same time Jonathan said, ‘No need for that at all. We'll all have coffee together.’
So they had coffee together. Jonathan told Eleanor what Charles had said to him. Eleanor had been away on a course for a week and didn't know the latest developments. She was very supportive, and absolutely certain that Jonathan would regain his sight. When she said so she leaned over, rested her hand on his knee and left it there. After a moment Jonathan moved his leg. Then they chatted about work for a little.
When Jonathan said it was time to start work again, Eleanor said that she had better go, she had work to do, too. She kissed Jonathan – for quite a long time, Tania thought. Then she went to the door. As she did so, she beckoned for Tania to follow her.
This was Jonathan's home. Tania wasn't having his guests making secret signs to her just because he couldn't see. And it seemed like betraying the confidence of a client ‘Did you want to talk to me, Eleanor?’ she asked out loud.
Quickly Eleanor managed to mask her evident fury. ‘Just a quick word if you don't mind,’ she said ’Jonathan, it's girl talk – is that all right?’
‘Be my guest,’ he said airily. ‘I'll be in the kitchen.’
‘I just want you to know how much I care for Jonathan,’ Eleanor said when they were alone. ‘I was devastated when this happened – but I don't think it does any good showing him that, does it?’
‘Not much,’ Tania agreed.
‘You know he was injured pushing me out of the way of a falling ladder? If he hadn't done that he wouldn't have been blinded.’
Just for a moment Tania thought she saw real feelings in Eleanor, a terror of what might have happened to her and a feeling of guilt that Jonathan had suffered instead of her. She felt a moment’s sympathy.
Eleanor went on, ‘The point is we're close. We're very … very good friends.’
‘Lovers?’ Tania asked bluntly.
Eleanor seemed pleased that Tania had brought it up. ‘Yes. Please, don't tell him that I told you, he'd be so embarrassed and angry – but, yes, we're lovers. The trouble is, recently things have been a bit, well, difficult between us. I thought we were getting things together again but … this accident couldn't have come at a worse time. I don't care whether he's blind or not, but he seems to want to keep me at a distance. What I'd like to ask you, Tania, is … will you keep an eye on him for me? If there's anything at all I can do, get in touch with me?’
‘Well, I won't report on him,’ Tania replied evenly, ‘but certainly, if there's any way you can be of help, I'll let you know.’
Eleanor decided to
make the most of a bad job. ‘You're so kind, Tania. Must fly now.’ And she was gone.
Tania stood there for a full minute, trying to decide how she felt.
The kitchen now smelled wonderfully of grilling bacon. But that wasn't what Tania wanted to talk about. ‘I could have left you alone with Eleanor for a few minutes,’ she said reproachfully to Jonathan. ‘After all, she did make the effort to come to see you. Why were you rotten to her?’
‘Eleanor is all right if you know how to handle her. Now, tell me, what did she tell you that you were to keep from me?’
‘How d'you know she told me to keep anything from you?’
‘Because you can't tell lies, or I'm learning to detect them. There was something in your voice that said that you were trying to keep a secret. And I know Eleanor from way back. She loves intrigue. A very good doctor, by the way.’
‘She's also very attractive,’ Tania said.
‘I know. And I love beautiful women, I always have. Now, Eleanor, let me guess … did she tell you that we were lovers?’
Tania said nothing for a while. ‘I think you ought to turn over that bacon.’
‘Your silence tells me what I want to know,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Eleanor told you we were lovers.’
‘Your private life is no concern of mine,’ said Tania. ‘Now, please, can we drop the subject? I'm your rehabilitation worker, not your confessor. I don't need … I don't want to hear about your love life. My job is helping you to cope with being blind.’
‘Quite so,’ said Jonathan.
Tania wondered why she felt so displeased with life.
It was more time than she usually gave to one of her clients, but Tania juggled her appointments, worked late a couple of evenings and discovered that she could see Jonathan in another two days – a Friday afternoon.
When he saw this in her schedule Derrick was suspicious. ‘Ronnie Slack in the morning – that's fine,’ he said. ‘But you're seeing more of this Dr. Knight than is necessary. Is he a difficult case?’
‘Just the opposite. He's a pleasure to work with.’ She remembered something and said slyly, ‘You told me I had to do my best for this man. Well, that's what I'm doing. Incidentally, I've met the neurologist Charles Forsythe. He's a very nice man.’
‘I see. Well, don't neglect your other cases.’
So Tania went to see Jonathan and once again, he was the perfect pupil.
‘You work so hard, you're spoiling me for everyone else I see,’ she told him. ‘I want them to be all like you.’
‘You haven't known me long. I'm keeping my bad habits hidden for a while.’
‘Not hidden well enough. I've seen your temper and I –’
The intercom sounded.
He went to answer it, when he came back into the room he looked disturbed. ‘There's a man outside who claims to be your boss,’ he said. ‘Name's Derrick Gee. Says he assessed me a week or so ago – though I don't remember it.’
‘He is my boss,’ Tania said doubtfully, ‘and technically I suppose he's entitled to see how I'm getting on. But he hasn't been to see me work since I started.’
‘We'd better let him in, then.’
After a couple of minutes it was obvious what Derrick wanted. He wanted to spy and he wanted his department to make a good impression on Charles Forsythe.
‘I trust Miss Richardson's work is satisfactory, Dr. Knight?’
'More than satisfactory, Mr Gee. When she's allowed to get on with it.'
‘And we can count on a good report to Mr Forsythe?’
‘Charles Forsythe will make up his own mind. He always does.’
Derrick didn't seem to notice that he was being snubbed, that he was irritating Jonathan. ‘Well, I'm pleased that my department is doing its best for you.’ The intercom sounded again. Tania wondered if this would anger Jonathan further, but he went as he always did to answer it
‘The florist,’ he said when he returned.
‘Perhaps we should have a look,’ Derrick said ingratiatingly. There are some strange people about and you're not yet –’
‘I said it was the florist. He's been here before, I recognised his voice. Tania, perhaps you'd give me a hand with whatever he's bringing up.’ Now Derrick did realise he wasn't wanted. But all he could do was smoulder in silence as Jonathan went to open the door.
Tania went with him and took the flowers from him.
He reached in his pocket for coins, identified them as she had shown him by rubbing his thumb round the edge, and then tipped the man.
‘You're doing well,’ she said briefly. ‘These are glorious flowers – why don't you smell them?’ So he buried his head in the bunch. She looked at them. They had been picked with care – all of them were scented.
‘Someone's very thoughtful,’ she added.
They went back into the living room and Jonathan said, ‘I've got three vases and they're all in a cupboard in the kitchen. Why don't I fetch one, half fill it with water then you can help me put these in it?’ Tania was pleased. He was learning to think and to plan for himself.
When he had gone Derrick came over and plucked an envelope from the flowers. ‘Someone will have to read this for him,’ he said, and opened it. ‘It says "With all my love and all good wishes for a quick recovery. I'll be in touch. Meryl Chandler." She's that television actress, you know. A famous beauty. Obviously there's something going on between them.’
‘He has a lot of beautiful friends,’ said Tania.
Jonathan came back with the vase, and Tania helped him slide the flowers into it. Then Derrick grumpily announced that he ought to be going and that Jonathan should feel free to phone him at any time, no matter how trivial the reason. Jonathan assured him that there was nothing to worry about; Miss Richardson was doing an excellent job. Derrick left.
‘I don't think I've made a new friend,’ Jonathan said when he'd gone. ‘But, there again, neither has he. Not a gracious man.’
‘His is a difficult job,’ Tania said. She felt she ought to defend her boss. Well, just a little. ‘He's got the usual bureaucratic problems. Not enough resources and too much work.’
‘He should look for grace under pressure. You've got it. Now, was there a card with these flowers?’ She didn't have time to feel pleased with his compliment. She had to read the card to him.
‘From Meryl! Well, that's very nice of her.’ He smelt the flowers again. ‘Very nice indeed.’
‘I've seen her on television,’ Tania said cautiously, ‘in that play about Catherine the Great. She's absolutely beautiful.’
‘So she is. I used to see a lot of her when I worked in London, and we parted good pals.’
‘You do like beautiful women, don't you?’
‘I do. I told you that earlier. Are you beautiful, Tania? You have a beautiful name.’
‘I think beauty is in the soul, the spirit, the mind, not the face.’
‘You may be right. I'm learning that through being blind my other senses are getting more acute. D'you know, when I was in Charles's ward, there was an absolutely gorgeous nurse who used to come and read to me. She was gorgeous because of her voice, Tania. And if I get my sight back, and she turns out to be not what other people think of as a raving beauty, then I shall still think of her as beautiful. Because she is.’
‘That's nice,’ Tania said, ‘but would you take her out if she turned out to be … rather plain? Could she ever become your girlfriend?’
Jonathan's smile was sheepish. ‘Probably not,’ he said, ‘and I know that doesn't show me in a very good light.’ He shrugged. ‘But you're avoiding my question. Are you beautiful, Tania? You don't have to boast. Just tell me whether other people think of you as beautiful.’
‘I would like you to think of me as beautiful in the same way you thought that nurse was gorgeous. If what I say and what I do for you is helpful then that's a kind of beauty.’
‘And so it is.’ He persisted, ‘But are you beautiful?’
‘People have said that I
am … quite good-looking.’
In fact, she knew that she was beautiful. When she entered a room she could feel the current of interest from men as they observed her. And the men she'd had to discourage! Her hair was dark, falling nearly to her lower back. It was her one concession to vanity to keep it long. Her brown eyes were large – and so was her mouth. Once, many years ago, a boy had told her that it was generous, and kissable, and beautifully curved. In those days she'd believed things like that. She used little makeup, but her skin glowed with health. And her figure was good. No, it was more than good, it was marvellous. Other women envied her slim body, high breasts, proud neck. She knew that if he could see her, Jonathan would think her beautiful. But then …
She wasn't sure where this conversation was going. She felt she was embarking on topics she had never had to deal with before – and it was disturbing her. But exciting her as well.
‘May I feel your face?’ he asked suddenly, ‘Perhaps your shoulders, too? Please, say no if you're at all worried but I want to see if I can get a picture of you through my hands.’
She hesitated only a moment ‘All right,’ she said, ‘so long as you don't try to take advantage.’
Then she laughed. ‘I know you won't. It's usually the old men who try – they forget themselves.’
‘I'm not an old man yet. Let me feel your hair first.’
Other people had asked to do this. But this man was different. His hands were very gentle. He lifted her long hair and let it sweep through his fingers. He trailed the tips down her cheeks, caressed the corners of her mouth so that it almost tickled. Whatever it was doing for him, it was giving her pleasure. He gently felt the muscles of her shoulders, ran his fingers down her arms. Then, abruptly, he let go of her. And she was sorry.
‘I liked that’ he said, ‘and I especially like your long hair. But I can't tell whether you're beautiful or not.’
His voice was slightly agitated. His mood had changed completely. Tania wasn't too upset. Rapid mood changes were a common feature of people who had just suffered a trauma like this man had.
The Consultant's Recovery Page 4
